Darkness judges
strings of the night
Puppeteers of ethereal law
The curtain slices the floor
Opening and presenting the bar
The podiums and the odious lawyers
There is no gravity
But the pressure makes one consider
eternities to come and that sense of plunging into doom
Light comes in from some open vein in the rock
somewhere in that shard where the dust dances
There is forgiveness redemption even
Mercy itself granted
one neglected imperfection
That has become the key to heaven
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